Читать книгу Scorned by the Boss / The Texan's Secret Past: Scorned by the Boss - Maureen Child - Страница 11

Five

Caitlyn had about a half hour to shower and dress before meeting Chad for drinks in the main bar. She hurried down the long, tiled hallway to her own door, digging in her pocket for the key card as she ran. She shouldn’t have agreed to meet the guy for a drink. And if Janine hadn’t been on the phone with her at the time, she wouldn’t have.

She just wasn’t feeling very sociable at the moment. Not that she wasn’t interested in meeting new people—men people—it was just that she was too busy thinking about Jefferson to appreciate someone else. Even someone as gorgeous as Chad.

“Which is just sick and twisted and wrong,” she muttered, dropping her tote bag on the end of the bed. “Why you should be thinking about your former boss at all is a mystery. He’s gone. Out of your life. Kaput. Adios, amigo. Sayonara. Ciao. Arrivederci.”

“That’s two in Italian.”

“Yikes!” Caitlyn clutched at her throat, spun around on her heel, lost her balance and tumbled back across the bed. Eyes wide, heart racing, she stared at Jefferson as he walked casually out of her bathroom. A thick fog of misting steam rolled out the open door behind him, surrounding him in a haze that made him look almost otherworldly. Of course, the towel hooked around the waist of his naked body wasn’t helping the situation any.

His hair was wet and drops of water were still rolling across his tanned, much-more-muscled-than-she’d-dreamed chest. And his piercing blue eyes were locked on hers. His full, delicious-looking mouth quirked in a half smile as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

“Surprise.”

“Surprise? What do you mean, surprise? What are you doing here?” She held up a hand as her heartbeat slowed from frantic down to way too fast. “Scratch that. Never mind what you’re doing here. What are you doing here? In my room here, I mean. How did you get in? Why would you—How could you—” She broke off, gulped some air and then settled for glaring at him.

Jefferson shrugged, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but watch the play of muscles that shifted with that minor action. But she steadfastly kept her gaze above that towel. Oh, boy, she could be in some serious trouble here. No, she wasn’t in love with her boss, but she was clearly quite deeply in lust with him.

And seeing him in that towel and a few drops of water was enough to make any woman start drooling.

“I came to bring you back home,” he said. “Back to Long Beach. Back to the company.”

Of course that’s why he was here. God, she was such an idiot. Taking a shower in her room only meant that he had needed a shower and helped himself. It didn’t mean that he was here for her. Naturally, the only thing on Jefferson’s mind was the usual. Himself.

“I quit, remember?”

He laughed, and the sound echoed off the walls of her large, elegant room. “You can’t quit, Caitlyn. Work is your life. How do you quit your life?”

“That was then. This is now. I’m making a new life, thanks.”

“One without me. Without Lyon Shipping.”

“That’s the plan.” The fact that she’d actually missed him in the last two days didn’t speak of great success for that plan, but that was neither here nor there.

“Hmm…I wonder.”

“Come on, Jefferson,” she said, wanting to get him off the subject of her entirely. “You didn’t come all the way here just to convince me to come back to a job I quit. Why are you really here?”

“After you left,” he said, walking across the room toward her, his footsteps silent on the thick, pale blue carpet, “I realized something.”

She scooted back on the bed, keeping her distance, but then thought about being on the bed with him so close and so conveniently naked. Which made her shoot off the mattress as though there was a spring under her behind. “What? You realized what?”

“I needed a vacation.”

“Right,” she said, shaking her head at the ridiculous story. “You’ve never taken a vacation, Jefferson. The closest you came to it was when you were flying around the globe ruining my vacations. Besides, shouldn’t you be back at the office, annoying some minion into finalizing your Portugal trip?”

“You’re exactly right. I have never taken a vacation, so I was more than due. As to ruining your vacations in the past, I’m not here to do that again. I’m only here to join in the fun.”

“Fun?”

“As to the Portugal trip,” he said, swiping one hand through his wet hair, “my rather exceptional admin has everything taken care of already.”

Exceptional.

He’d called her exceptional. Oh, he was up to something.

She only wished she knew what.

“And,” he admitted with another shrug—and he really did have some amazing pecs—“I missed you.”

Caitlyn snorted. Very inelegant, she knew, but she just couldn’t help herself. Oh, yes. Definitely up to something. “You missed me. Sure you did. You mean, you missed having me run interference between you and the company. It’s only been a couple of days, Jefferson.”

A couple of days during which she had missed him. But that wasn’t the point now, was it?

“This isn’t about work, Caitlyn,” he said, his gaze fixed on her so steadily she was pretty sure she could feel heat sizzling in the air between them. “This is about us.”

She just stared at him for a long minute. This was getting weirder and weirder. First, he’s naked in her hotel room. Next he’s missing her. Now he’s talking about an us?

“Okay, I must have somehow slipped into an alternate dimension,” she muttered, shaking her head and fiddling with the cloth belt of her cover-up. No way was she slipping it off to stand in front of him in her bathing suit. The more clothes she had on at the moment, the safer she’d be.

And where was all this sudden, desperate lust coming from? She’d worked for the man for three long years. Sure, she’d been attracted, but she’d never felt the kind of swamping, all-encompassing heat that was boiling in her system at the moment. Was it the fact that they were both away from the business setting?

Or maybe it was just that towel he was wearing.

Her eyes popped a little. Was that towel slipping?

“Alternate dimension,” she repeated numbly. She blinked, tore her gaze from the towel. “That has to be it. The only rational explanation. Well, that or I’m having a stroke. No, not a stroke. Must be the alternate-plane thing. The elevator. I probably got caught in one of those ripples in time. Maybe if I go back down, I’ll get back to my own universe and none of this will be happening.”

“Ripple in time?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Makes more sense than believing any of this is happening.”

“But it is happening,” he said in a voice that had dropped low enough that the vibrations of it were sizzling along every one of her nerve endings.

“No, it’s not,” she said firmly. No way was she going to get sucked into whatever game he was playing. She wasn’t going to go back to work for him. She was sticking to her guns—and not going to look at that towel.

“Jefferson,” she said, inching farther from him. “Let’s forget for the moment why you came here. How did you get into my room?”

He smiled and she felt her knees wobble. Not a good sign.

“I followed you here.”

“Yeah. I got that.” Frowning, she asked, “How’d you know where I was going?”

“It’s not that difficult for a man in my position to get whatever answers he needs, Caitlyn.”

Probably not, she mused. The man had contacts all over the world and enough money to pay for whatever information he needed. But why go to all this trouble? And even if finding her was no big deal, how the hell did he get into her hotel room?

“Fine. You found me. But who let you into my room?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and the towel pulled away from one of his thighs, exposing a good bit of tanned, very muscular flesh with just a sprinkling of blond hair. Oh, god.

“When I explained to the front desk that my wife had arrived a few days ahead of me, they were very happy to give me a key.”

“Your wife?” Okay, that was enough to pull her out of the fantasies her brain was currently indulging in. “You told them I was your wife? And they believed you?”

“Of course.”

Of course.

He said it as a matter of fact. And why wouldn’t he? The name Jefferson Lyon carried enough weight that they probably would have let him into her room even if he hadn’t claimed to be her husband. Money, as she’d learned long ago, didn’t just talk, it shouted.

“Caitlyn,” he was saying, and she forced her overworked mind to focus. “There were no other rooms available. The hotel was completely booked up. So what else was I supposed to do?”

“Go home?” she offered, throwing both hands high in exasperation.

“Not without seeing you.” He casually leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows. The towel slipped again and Caitlyn sucked in air. Now most of his thick thigh was exposed, with the soft blue towel just covering up the essentials.

Closing her eyes, Caitlyn rubbed at the spot between her eyes and told herself to count to ten. When she’d finished, she counted to twenty. Didn’t help. She was still furious and a little shocked and a lot needy.

So not a good combo.

Jefferson watched her and wished he could read her mind. The emotions flitting across her features were fleeting and so diverse he knew that her thoughts had to be wildly entertaining.

While she began to pace, talking to herself, Jefferson followed her with his gaze. Sunlight speared through the open French doors leading to the small private balcony. A soft wind made the sheer curtains dance and wave with languid abandon and the wash of golden light in the room played on Caitlyn’s long, lean legs, tanned to the color of warm honey. Something stirred within him and he scowled briefly as he recalled the desk clerk describing Caitlyn as “the one with the amazing legs.”

Jefferson had to admit the guy had been right. And why had he never noticed Caitlyn’s legs before? Shaking his head now, he pushed that stray thought out of his mind and concentrated instead on the situation. He was here with her and his plan was just getting started.

He could have gone downstairs to find her, but meeting her this way had been so much more…intriguing. He hadn’t had any trouble talking his way into Caitlyn’s room—and if he owned this particular resort, he’d have fired the clerk who’d bowed to Jefferson’s name and money long enough to hand over the key to a guest’s room. But since that employee wasn’t his trouble, he could only appreciate the fact that the Lyon name carried the weight he had needed.

Of course, the fact that Jefferson had bought up the remaining rooms in the hotel so he wouldn’t be able to leave Caitlyn’s room had probably convinced the desk jockey to be more lenient than usual.

“You can’t stay here,” she said finally.

“No choice. There aren’t any available rooms.”

“Go buy a house.”

“Private island,” he reminded her.

Hands at her hips, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “Not my problem.”

“Now, is that any way for a wife to talk to her husband?”

“I can’t believe you did that. In fact, I’m surprised you managed to choke out the word wife.”

Jefferson pushed off the bed, felt the towel at his hips slip a little and reached to straighten it. And he caught the flash of interest in Caitlyn’s eyes. Smiling, he said, “But I did. And now that I have, you’re stuck with me.”

“Don’t count on it,” she promised, and walked to the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. “I’ll call the front desk. Tell them you lied.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell them this is a lover’s quarrel.”

“They won’t believe you.”

“I can be very convincing.”

She frowned up at him and he wanted to grin at the frustration pouring off her in waves. He could almost see her thinking her way through this mess and looking for a way out. When she didn’t find one, she said, “Fine. Fine, they’d side with you anyway and probably end up kicking me out and giving you my room.”

“Oh,” Jefferson said, enjoying himself, “that wouldn’t happen. I’d never let my ‘wife’ be treated like that.”

She blew out a breath that ruffled the fringe of bangs on her forehead. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Pet names,” he said, smiling. “Isn’t that nice?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Jefferson,” she said. “But it won’t work, whatever it is.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid to be alone with me?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” One eyebrow rose. “Then, there’s no problem, is there?”

“Fine. You can stay here until they find a room for you.”

Which wouldn’t happen anytime soon, Jefferson knew all too well.

“But you sleep on the floor.”

“So you are scared of me. Or of yourself with me.”

“Your ego is astounding.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered.

“Now, Caitlyn,” he said, striding toward the closet where the few clothes he’d grabbed before this hurried trip were already hung alongside hers. “We don’t want to start our vacation with an argument, do we?”

“What’re you doing?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Getting dressed.”

“Here?”

“Where else?” He dropped both hands to the towel and unhooked it. Before he could let it fall, she was sprinting for the bathroom.

“Just…get dressed and go away. I have to get ready for a date.”

“A date?”

She paused in the bathroom doorway and tossed him a satisfied smile. “Yes, a date. Just enjoying ‘our’ vacation, Jefferson.”

She closed the door and he dropped the towel in disgust. She’d been there two days and already had a date? Didn’t bode well for his seduction plans. But then he reassured himself that by getting her to let him stay in her room, he’d already won the first round. She just didn’t know it.

Besides, he thought as he grabbed his clothes and got dressed, just because she had a date didn’t mean that she was going to stay on it for long.

Caitlyn smiled at Chad as he regaled her with yet another tale of his prowess at day-trading. She was almost asleep with her eyes open when he asked, “Can you believe it? I traded that stock with an eighth of a percent profit. Tightest deal I’d ever swung.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the memory of his triumph. “Nothing more vicious than the market.”

“Sounds fascinating.” She picked up her drink and wished it were full. Would it be rude to signal the waiter for a refill? She didn’t think she could take much more of this without slipping into a coma.

Her mother’s words of warning about handsome men came rushing back to her. Sometimes, honey, God gives and God takes away. Lots of times, handsome faces cover up empty heads.

God, she hated when her mother was right.

“Hello.”

Caitlyn jumped in her chair, whipped a quick look over her shoulder and couldn’t believe how happy she was to see Jefferson standing right behind her. Of course, she couldn’t let him know that. She wanted him to believe she was having a good time. Without him.

“Hello,” Chad said, shooting a confused look from her to Jefferson and back again.

Jefferson leaned down, planted a quick kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek. And before her skin had stopped buzzing with heat, he was smiling at Chad and extending his hand. “Caitlyn, darling,” he said affably, “you didn’t tell me someone else would be joining us for drinks. I’m sorry I got hung up on the phone. But you know how those business calls can run on.”

“Umm…” She watched him take a seat beside her, signal the waiter with a quick wave of his hand and then drop his arm around her shoulders. Caitlyn tried to shift out from under his grasp, but he only tightened his hold on her.

The man sitting across from them looked more confused than ever, and Caitlyn couldn’t blame him.

“So, sweetie,” Jefferson said, “who’s your friend?”

“The name’s Chad.”

“Really? Chad?”

“Jefferson…” Caitlyn muttered.

“Look,” Chad said tightly as the waiter appeared, took Jefferson’s order and quietly disappeared again, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but Caitlyn and I had a date for drinks and—”

“A date?” Jefferson laughed, and his amusement seemed to hit Chad the wrong way. Again, Caitlyn couldn’t really blame him. She wasn’t amused, either. Though, damned if she wasn’t relieved that Jefferson had shown up.

What was the old saying? Better the devil you know?

“What’s so funny?” Chad demanded, getting a little red in the face.

“Nothing.” Jefferson’s smile faded and his eyes narrowed to dangerous blue slits. “I always find the fact that a man thinks he has a date with my wife entertaining.”

“Your wife?” Chad stood up and shot Caitlyn a quelling look.

“Jefferson—Chad—”

“You’re not wearing a ring.” The darkly attractive, extremely boring man looked at Jefferson. “She didn’t say anything about a husband, man.”

“Well, we did have an argument earlier. She’s probably still upset with me. Isn’t that right, darling?” He pulled her in for a quick kiss, and while her lips burned with a fire that seemed to keep right on sizzling, Caitlyn’s voice dried up.

“I didn’t mean to come on to her—”

“I understand.” Benevolent now, Jefferson nodded and flicked his fingers at the man looking for a quick escape. “My wife is a beautiful woman. Hardly surprising you’d try to make a move. Now, though, if you’ll excuse us…”

Chad disappeared so fast Caitlyn half expected to see sparks shooting up from the heels of his shoes. Then she was alone with Jefferson. “Why are you doing this?”

He gave her shoulders another squeeze and smiled down at her. “Rescuing you from boredom, you mean? Well, because I’m a great humanitarian.”

“How do you know I was bored?” she countered. “Chad was fascinating. Seriously. I was hanging on his every word.”

“Your eyes were glazed over and your body language indicated imminent unconsciousness.”

Caitlyn sighed, slipped out from under Jefferson’s arm and picked up her drink. Draining it, she held the empty glass up to him, and once again he signaled for the waiter. What was the point in pretending? She was too grateful that Jefferson had arrived like the cavalry. If he hadn’t, she might have been stuck for hours listening to tales of pork bellies and futures trading. “Fine. I admit it. I’ve never been so bored in my life.”

“What did you expect?” he asked, grinning. “The man’s name is Chad. Is that even a name? Isn’t it really just a hanging piece of paper?”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Stop it. He seemed nice enough on the beach.”

“Aah, well. You met on the beach. Of course you’d expect him to be fascinating. Probably heatstroke.”